Lost professionalism
by Radiklement
Summary: Cor worked well with Monica. And she was the only Lucian person always able to pinpoint his exact location. He hadn't expected himself to rely so much on her after Insomnia's fall. And eventually, the relying seemed to turn into something more. Something strong. She tried to ignore it on her side too, until it felt like too much. Collection of one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

A little one-shot on Cor x Monica, or what I like to call Monicor (because Cornica just sounds harsh). I've really grown to ship these two and since I don't exactly plan on writing a long fic on them or letting them invade Unexpected's plot (although their pairing will definitely turn canon in the fic) I needed to relieve some stress and just mess around with someone short and sweet.

…..

Lost professionalism

It started with complicity and undertanding. She was an organizer and he knew just which order to give and how to phrase them. They never fought together, never let personal feelings get in the way of work, until the day her hunters brought him back to her on the brink of death. Cor the Immortal was only human after all, and Monica did everything she could to keep him alive. They might count on Noctis to save the world, but someone had to give sense to the world and reassure the population. That was where their work counted. After being watched over for hours by the same woman, Leonis tried to stay detached, although her eyes on him were now a familiar blanket, a solace that helped making him feel grounded when most of the time, he had no idea what he was doing. From the beginning, they'd always stay in close contact. She always knew where he was and he did all he could to assure her safety.

Monica knew how to defend herself in a political world, among kings and court's intrigues and she used that knowledge just as much in the wild, but it didn't mean she could defeat daemons or Bendersnatches. So Cor made sure she was surrounded by efficient fighters when he wasn't around. They mostly talked on the phone, working in different campsites, often on either side of the continent. They agreed on codes whenever they sat together after a long meeting of planning, sharing a beer -or on some luxurious occasions- a bottle of wine. Cor never managed to made her laugh, he was too pragmatic for that, too down to earth and maybe she was too serious even with alcohol in her veins, but he did make her smile and relished every little line around her eyes and her lips when she would finally relax and let go of her serious expression. The twinkle in his eyes at those moments made something ache inside her, but she kept it at bay. If she lost focus, she'd make a mistake and might lose him entirely.

After five months of talking back and forth, of meeting every two weeks for more planning, Monica admitted to herself she never felt as safe than when Cor was around. And he was shocked to realize how jealous he turned when considering the idea Dave the hunter was spending more time with her than him. He was a grown man, a soldier and a living legend, not some schoolboy crushing over a pretty girl. Could love even happen in a decaying world?

That night, they sat in her spartiate room, eating small rations and both feeling a thirst for more than cold beer or whiskey. Life was too short and regrets might pile up if they kept this up. What were a few hours of bliss when they sacrificed everything else for the cause they believed in? Monica tried to convince herself she was lonely, that she needed his arms and his rough voice in her ears only to feel alive. But the only question that came to her lips when he made the first move toward her was:

"Are you really immortal?"

Cor blinked, between surprise and doubt.

"I… I'm not."

She'd never heard him stutter before and decided it sounded good.

"You'd better work on that. I don't think I can lose you."

The space between them vanished, words losing sense. Promises would be lies, but actions never lied and Cor kissed her frail smile, feeling more welcome in her embrace than he'd been anywhere else. With anyone else. All those efforts were for her. When she cupped his face in her hands, in a gesture that had been wished and dreamed for months, his thoughts unraveled. He could have vowed to serve her and no one but her right then. But she served with him, her priorities straight despite the love, the need and how much she'd longed to have him.

If the world hadn't ended, they might have remained simple acquaintances, respecting each other from afar. Now, it was almost impossible to picture a future without her, without him, without them working as a pair. They were together in this, the bad and the worst, but they'd made some good in every little way that mattered. In a bed or on a battlefield.

When his phone rang, Cor barely muffled his discontent groan, the shivering woman beneath him sighing as her hands fell on either side of her. She wouldn't prevent him from doing his job. To make things better, her phone rang too and they parted from each other, clothes half open, half gone, not even trying to fix their hair. Both conversations were over in a matter of minutes and the laugh came only after they'd hung up, Monica unable to hold it back as she saw the desperate look in his eyes. He'd talk to his men with cold precision, but he looked flustered and anything but cold or precise. He doubted her laugh was a good sign and seemed ready to fix his appearance and leave, when she tugged on his belt, her laughing eyes and wide smirk making his heart jump through hoops in his chest.

"You'd better finish what you started, Leonis."

"If I do, you might not get a minute of sleep tonight…" he warned her, sliding her pants down and letting her do as she pleased with him.

"I'm pretty sure I can wear you out first."

"That a promise?"

"Depends. If this happens more than once, I might let you have your ways with me."

And there it was, the promise she wanted, more than any confession, the reason for her question about him being immortal or not, despite the fact she knew…

"I'd never let a woman in need fend for herself."

Her eyes darkened and her hands clawed at his skin, reminding him that smooth talk never worked.

"Mon… If you want it to happen more than once, I'll…"

He hated himself for walking right into her traps. He could devise the craziest strategy and put order anywhere, but sorting out the right words to admit his feelings… That was hard, because feelings were unpredictable and would sometimes defy his logic.

"I want it." she told him. "Just tell me the feeling's mutual."

"It's more than mutual, Mon."

The nickname had made her smile the first time he'd blurt it out and her smile tasted good despite the sourness of their meal and the fact their water was running stale.

"Cor…"

He kissed her to prevent any more words to come out. Words would create fear and his name on her lips, said with tenderness and such longing… He'd restrained himself for far too long.

This turned into their best sleepless night since a long, long time.

…..

Aww, little less than 1200 words on this. But they're sweet. And I want to spread the love. Older people owes some love too. And I can't help but think that those two would make good surrogate parents for Talcott. Iris already has her hands full, so she certainly used some help in raising him after Jared's death. All the fiction potential in there. But I need to leave, got to get through this awful week of school-work. Hope you like it!


	2. Needing someone

Okay, this is going to be a collection of drabbles over Cornica. Just sweet moments, maybe action sometimes. Anything to just take my mind off. It's pretty much an exercice of auto writing too. I'm still leaving the complete tag on it, because there won't be any two-shots in here, the length will simply change every now and then. I hope you'll like this one.

…

Needing someone

Keeping up a relationship with a coworker was never an easy thing. Usually, it was hard, because two people in love still needed time on their own and might end up driving each other mad in a bad way, what with being stuck together all the time. Monica had been through one of those before, only to forbid herself to ever cross the professional line again. Heartbreak wasn't the only of her worry. She was no noble, but working among them and maneuvering businessman to keep an overpopulated city working had meant sacrificing a lot of things from her life.

Now, she had thrown caution to the wind, and despite the fact they hadn't talked about their relationship, the woman found time to question what they meant for each other. They shared food and bed whenever possible, which wasn't that often. They still talked in codes and as gentle as her lover could get when they were face to face, he never sweet talked her on the phone or in the few texts that went between them. Apart, they were simply co-workers. And it seemed there was a precise hour after which he accepted to let his emotions out, although there had been no love words whispered, not even in the throes of passion. Sincerely, Monica didn't mind. She was mature enough to content herself with what little happiness she could have. Words and actions were two separated things and his easy smiles meant as much as any confession.

At the very least, she knew he counted on her far more than anyone else in the ordeals they faced. She only wished they didn't have to spend that much time separated.

Cor was moving all over Lucis, gathering the little military they had left, securing refugee's camps while she organized hunter's outposts one after the other. She supervised and helped in solidifying buildings, she made connections between people and groups, sewing a safety net for her country. But at some nights, the task seemed impossible. It was one of those nights, where Monica tossed and turned on her small bed, trying not to think of the fact she hadn't showered once in the last four days, trying not to miss her old flat and the cozy futon where she'd fallen asleep a thousand time, working late into the night until she'd drop on her laptop.

No one felt like sharing the memories from those days. Because Insomnia had fallen, because everywhere they looked, they saw ruins and somehow, pulling the past into the present might ruin it too.

The light knock on her door made her gasp, considering it was two in the morning and that no one had disturbed her this late unless something awful had happened. Her feet were still cold, she couldn't seem to get warm, and she put a jacket on her nightdress, not bothering to turn on her lantern. She hated how rustic her life had turned, but she'd grown accustomed to save everything as much as possible. Electricity, her phone's battery, oil and matches.

She cracked the door open, finding Cor on the other side, clearly tired and in dire need of a razor considering his beard had grown almost an inch longer.

"Anything wrong?" she asked, looking for people standing behind him.

The outpost was quiet and the man silently asked for permission to enter. Hunters shared a shack, but no matter where she found herself, Monica always managed to get her own separate room. Leonis might have pulled a few strings for it, even more so since they'd gotten closer, but he was pretty sure that if he hadn't done anything, things might have gone the same way. The woman earned respect everywhere she went.

Taking a step back, she let him in, closing the door behind him and giving him a questioning glance, still waiting for an answer. Much to her surprise, the Immortal wrapped his arms around her first. One second, she'd been alone, tossing around too many questions in her head, and suddenly he was there, embracing her, as though the same questions had been on his mind. She pushed the idea away, taking in his musky scent. Dried blood stained his coat and she instinctively knew it wasn't his.

"Cor…"

"I should have warned you I was coming, but… There's unrest in the ranks. We might have a mole among us…"

He sounded tired, awfully tired and she shivered in his arms. Couldn't they have a break?

"You think it's one of the men here?!"

"No. You would have found it already."

His confidence in her eased some of her worries. She had found traitors before and always got through them.

"So you just wanted to tell it to me in person?"

Gently parting from him, she helped him taking off his coat. He seemed to be at war with himself over the answer he should give her. Monica didn't push him, storing his coat on her desk and sitting back on her bed, tapping the mattress to invite him to sit. He took off his boots, made sure the door was locked and sat next to her, his hand almost instantly reaching for her thigh.

"To be frank, I wanted to make sure you were safe."

She put her hand over his, unable to hold back the smile on her face.

"Is it so hard to admit you were missing me?"

"I was." He sighed, inching closer to her.

"Or maybe you're missing the sex…"

"Well, saying I miss both almost equally sounds like a good way to get myself kicked out…"

His breath ghosted her neck and she could tell where things would go if she let him. She turned her face toward his, crossing her arms over her chest. The look in her eyes was enough to douse any amorous intention.

"That didn't came out as intended."

"You've got the worst one-liner I ever heard. But it's not that. I need to get up early in the morning."

He sighed, before to give her a questioning look. She already got up early without any peculiar reason, more than often around a half and 6.

"Why?" he asked, sounding like a whiny kid for an instant.

"You said there's a mole in our ranks. I have to plan things up. And you look like you could use some sleep. Strip off every dirty clothes and keep me warm."

"You're always giving me orders." Cor complained, getting up to shrug off his pants.

"You like it." She retorted.

As long as the orders were of that kind. Her single bed was so small, Monica was almost crushed between him and the wall as he slid under the covers, before gathering her close and finding just the right way to hold her for the night. Chest to chest, her breathing sending shivers down his neck. She toyed with the hairs on his chest absent-mindedly, a gentle caress he'd grown to like more than he'd expected. The intimacy was sweeter than in most of his previous relationships. It came without questions, gestures that felt natural, almost familiar.

He liked the feel of her hair sticking to the stubble on his chin. The way her legs always wrapped around one of his, as if to make sure he'd stay close. He could have drifted right off to sleep, but his partner couldn't find rest just yet.

"Do you think we'd work out? If the wall was still up. If we'd gotten closer earlier?"

He didn't like to wonder about what ifs, because they made for bad plans and preceded most of his nightmares. What if he'd been in Insomnia when the treaty had been signed. What if he'd known how bad the situation was? What if…

But the idea of taking her out to some flashy restaurants and maybe even dancing with her at some rare and pompous ball. Sneaking her away from her organization duty for some mad kissing in a library, acting like the teenager he'd never gotten the chance to be. Sharing scalding showers with her. Damn, could he picture it.

"You ever went out with soldiers?"

"Once. He did what I hope you won't ever do to me."

The idea someone might have hurt her in the past managed to make him angry, despite the fact he couldn't have done nothing to prevent it. And the words that followed made him realize how fragile she could be, despite being a realist at heart.

"He died."

Her voice didn't sound too sad, which had to mean this was old enough for the scar to be mostly healed.

"That's a really bad tendency." He admitted, stroking her hair.

She squirmed a bit, before to sigh.

"Ever dated an administrator's daughter? Or high class pretenders without blue blood?"

"I don't think I ever did before. But I wasn't that good at relationships. My work brought me to all sort of places and people… There was never anything stable."

He could have mentioned his friendships, which had been stable and long-lasting, but it hurt too much to think of either Regis or Clarus. He'd worked for them and would have laid down his life, but before to be his king and mentor, they were his friends. Maybe the closest thing to family he'd ever had…

"Maybe you don't like stable." She suggested.

"Hey, don't say that. I want this to work."

"You mean, you want us to work?"

She sounded almost surprised and he wondered how bad a lover he was if she hadn't understood him yet. He kissed the top of her hair, holding her closer, her arms wrapping tight around him.

"Us. I think we can last. Maybe not before… but as we are now. And even after we've settled all the madness…"

He didn't dare to say they could see their country rebuild in their own life time. It was wishful thinking and despite nurturing some hope now and again, the man was a realist before anything else.

"You're always planning ahead." She observed, one of her hand reaching for his hair. "How about enjoying the present sometimes?"

"I thought we were going to sleep."

"We are. But I need some entertainment. You're lucky I wasn't fast asleep when you knocked on my door."

Her sleep was light these days, maybe even lighter than his and they both knew it, but he didn't protest. It was really hard to protest with her.

"Which sort of entertainment?"

"I don't know. Talking of normal stuff. What you'd like to do if we had time off?"

Time off had always been an abstract concept for Cor. And he had quickly deduced was just the same sort of workaholic as him.

"You know I'm not good with words, Mon. And the ifs and…"

"I don't mean to make it hurt. I miss my cats, but I won't linger on it. Just give it a try. A scenario that could happen in our present and wouldn't involve working… I haven't dreamed in a long time."

And maybe dreaming out loud was all they had left for the moment. After a deep sigh and some thinking despite his weariness, Cor found inspiration.

And his voice lulled her to sleep, as he depicted a field next to some cottage, where he'd take her if she was ready to give up some comfort to experience what people lived outside of cities. Away from outposts and hunters. Brown earth and a fresh harvest in the field. And the warm fireplace in front of which they'd talk and read and rest, not caring about the upstairs room or the fact they had a bed. It was almost too vivid and Monica would have asked where those memories came from, but the sound of his voice, the feel of his arms made her feel safe enough to close her eyes and hope for once, she wouldn't have nightmares.

As early as it was in the morning, she dreamed of the place he'd described, not realizing it was his parent's house. He'd stayed until hunting made him want more actions than just chasing out the few beasts that came too close to the farm. He missed the liberty of it, the fact they depended only on themselves. The point in his life where he wasn't afraid, because he hadn't lost anyone yet.

It was over and done. And as she relaxed in his arms, he wondered how many more people he could survive.

He woke her up two hours later, fresh out of a nightmare, needing to make sure she was breathing and it wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him, needing to hear her voice. He looked so vulnerable, so lost as he took her pulse and almost immediately apologized. It seemed clear why he'd shown up on her doorstep. Why he wanted to make sure she was safe. He'd grown attached. He'd made that mistake and couldn't bear to lose her too.

"Cor, look at me. I'm not going anywhere yet."

"Don't say yet, Mon."

"I'll always say yet. That's why I told you to enjoy the present. It's why I miss you and couldn't fall asleep before you showed up."

He kissed her silent, rough and desperate. He hated feeling like this. They'd name him the immortal and it felt too heavy a title every time he survived another person that mattered to him. He wondered if he could break in her arms, almost wanted to run. When he parted from her, breathless, his emotions too close to the surface, he warned her:

"I need to stay strong."

It sounded like a plea and she smiled to him.

"Then let me make you strong. You've already helped me more than you could imagine."

She tried telling him that what they shared would help, alive or dead. And he tried his best to listen and believe, until the pictures flashed back in his mind. He'd seen enough battlefields, enough broken bodies to know he wouldn't hold up if he ever saw her like that. His only consolation was the fact Monica never fought and was brilliant enough to know when her life was at risk.

"It's okay if you need me." She told him.

His laugh was bitter and his hands on her felt beyond possessive. As if he wanted to grasp her very essence, maybe in order to make sure she'd never leave this realm.

"Do you need me, Mon? Now?"

His eyes had to see down to her soul, because his stare felt too intense. She shivered and managed a single word.

"Always."

They might never use the usual words, but love was behind every gesture, every glance.

In the morning, past 9, they both walked out Monica's shack, not looking much rested, but both ready to attack a new business day. A few hunters saw the pair, but nobody commented on it. Commander, soldier or head of the hunters' league of Lucis, every human needed love. And those two worked well and never let their love in the way of results. Oh, that might have delayed a few meetings planned that particular day. And surely it would happen again. But if that helped them get through it in the long run, it had to be worth it.

…..

Here's another one. Less short than the previous one, because I wanted to give them more time together. Monica really likes to put Cor on the grill, doesn't she? Anyway, I'm thinking of doing another one that would depict their first meeting after the fall of Insomnia. And maybe one where they met while both going on with their lives before that the war got so out of control, when they were younger. And one where they learned of what happened with Luna. And eventually with their king. I love those two. Review if you liked it. ;)


	3. The first time

Another drabble for Cornica! Give love to this ship guys, this ship is love and so left out. This include a flashback to the golden days of Insomnia and Lucian society. I hope you have fun reading it!

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The first time

Cor was the perfect soldier, a brilliant tactician and surely the greatest fighter of the entire kingdom. He'd won every friendly competition and hadn't lost a single fight in the last decade, be it on the battlefield or in training. But somehow, the man still managed to get late, especially at parties he couldn't care about.

Being thirty-one and single was like a brand that spelled out "fresh meat" to young available ladies. Most if not every of them had no idea what it was to be a soldier's wife. They wanted his fame and fortune, but there wasn't one interested to keep him warm at night or to wake up with him if he had a nightmare. And as invincible as he was, he had nightmares. In fact, he had so many of them, he could hardly his last good night of sleep.

Regis had insisted for him to be there tonight. The party started around six and it was already half past six as he drove up to the Citadel. Cor might have a lot of things, but he hated flashy stuff. He'd been brought up simply, on the outskirts of Lucis and he liked his simple flat on the other side of the city. But his small comfort meant a lot of driving through traffic. With music that made him feel a tad aggressive, not matter how many times he switched channels.

An hour later, he barged into the Citadel, wearing nothing but black, as was the usual norm. Except that tonight was supposed to be an exception… A woman got in his way, holding a clipboard and looking slightly shocked. She was wearing nothing but white, from her toes to the small cat-shaped earrings he noticed amidst all the professionalism she exuded.

"You can't go in looking like that." She observed.

"I beg your pardon?! I'm already late and…"

He was about to use the card he rarely ever used. The "do you know who you're talking to?" one. But the lady knew who she was talking to.

"Mister Leonis, this party was organized as a memorial for lady Aulea. Everyone is supposed to wear white."

Somehow, he had forgotten. His shoulders sagged and the brunette retorted with an encouraging smile.

"Someone let me know you might be unprepared, and I have a wardrobe ready in such case. Follow me."

There was little action in this private hallway, and Cor followed the woman, trying to remember where he'd seen her before. She was often around the castle, but he couldn't tell her exact role. She had a small mic in one ear, as though her role in the organization was far bigger than he would have expected. The room she led him too was filled with white suits or dresses. Someone was getting fitted on the other side of a drape and his guide simply went along, motioning for him to follow. One three pieces' suit had been kept impeccable for the occasion, with silver cuffs and a freaking tie. There were even shoes his size.

"Who put you up to this?"

She shrugged in answer, motioning for him to get changed behind his own drape. Her eyes weren't even looking at him as she pressed on her mic to receive a call. He heard her giving instructions in a tone that was half gentle half firm. He asked himself once more who she could be. He quickly got out of his attire, not exactly surprised the suit fitted perfectly. Clarus could get his measurements easily enough with all the military uniform he'd gotten through. As good as Cor had been to slip on a coat without putting any folds in the fabric, he had never been good with ties. It was almost a running gag between the older guys and him. The silver tie carelessly stuffed in his jacket's pocket, he walked out, only to meet her reproving eyes.

"Need a hand?" she offered.

"Is there a bet you might lose if I refuse to wear that tie?"

"No, decorum is mandatory tonight. And it's funny to see the Immortal squirming a bit."

He offered up the tie, wondering why he'd even let her mess around with him. Maybe was it the fact he'd been feeling lonely lately. Maybe was it the half smirk on her round face. Or the fact she wore heelless shoes. Decorum certainly didn't recommend that. He straightened her shoulders as she got on the tip of her toes to slip the tie around his neck. She tied the knot quickly, managing to keep her clipboard beneath one arm. Cor had to look away from her face and focused on the earring on her left ear. Otherwise, his eyes would follow her neckline and he didn't want to give her a wrong first impression.

"Here. You're running pretty late. I bet you want to make a discreet entrance?"

"If it's possible in this getup."

She gave him a real smile at that and led him out of the fitting room and through a series of hallway and back passage he didn't remember ever seeing. The woman had to be pretty high up to know of any secrets in the Citadel. Her steps were light on the marble floor and as his eyes kept falling on her bare shoulders, he wondered if she wasn't cold. A minute later, they were stepping into the main ballroom of the Citadel, where white tulle, velvet and fabrics he didn't even recognize formed a lacelike pattern. People were waltzing in a corner, while butlers weaved through the many circles of conversation to offer drinks and refreshment. The small woman let him to his own devices to go supervise some people and Cor was finally free to remember why he hated ceremonial occasions so much.

He spotted Clarus, standing tall among the other guests and squared his shoulders to make his way towards his friends. Regis was somber, wearing grey instead of white and he looked as though he might have preferred being somewhere else. The five years old prince was apparently too shy to make an appearance. Or maybe too shaken by his recent trial with the crystal.

"Here is the recruit." Amicitia observed as Cor approached their group.

Whiskam was nowhere to be seen and Cid had refused to set even one foot in Insomnia, which made the entourage of the king mostly his councilmen and women and a few single noble ladies that thought they might become the next queen if their sovereign ever decided to move on.

"I'm late, not 15." Leonis protested to the usual teasing.

No matter how grown up he'd gotten, no matter his unrivaled skills, the guys were still treating him like the teenage boy they'd let on their team 15 years ago.

"Oh, Cor, it's good to see you." Regis sighed. "You didn't have to come though. I doubt I can be quite entertaining."

"I went through the ordeal of changing into this ridiculous suit, you might as well entertain me."

The king smiled, not minding the familiarity at all. He was a lot more patient than he'd been and Cor wasn't sure why he always felt more at ease when his liege would show that fatherly expression.

"Monica saw you barging in wearing black, huh?"

"Who?"

"The tough lady with cat earrings that has been making sure this whole party ran smoothly. She's over every detail, you'd think she had twins of herself or something. She's been talking my ear off for the last half hour about babysitting some military man." Clarus observed.

Cor doubted it could have lasted that long if she made any comments about him, but the idea the woman looked after security through Clarus and other guards while pulling every tiny detail such as the guests wardrobes was impressive.

"I'm sure I've seen her around before, but I can't seem to remember."

"It's Monica Elshett," Regis interfered. "She was like a younger sister to Aulea and would help her with anything she had to learn over politics or the court. I would have appointed her to the council, but that lady hates being in the center of attention."

Cor wondered how he could have missed this. A close friend to the royal family that he didn't know of? How long had he been fighting in the front?

"Elshett, huh? Wasn't her father a noble?"

"Until some incident involving potential treason." Amicitia observed, his face turning dark.

Regis' shoulders lowered slightly, but he recovered quickly, refusing to linger on dark thoughts. He clapped the Immortal on the shoulder, his silver Crown catching a hint of light and blinding the younger man an instant.

"You're not on a mission, Cor. Relax a bit and try to enjoy yourself. I think you've become a better dancer since the last ball."

"I'm not dancing…" he protested.

"I think you could use some unwinding." Clarus added. "And I'd like to see our clipboard lady flustered."

Ever since both Clarus and Regis had become widowers around the same time, they'd taken a keen interest in Cor's love life. Or lack of to be accurate. As though the younger man had to settle down like they'd down around his age.

"You've been back from the front for less than a week. Don't stay weary like a wild animal."

"What's up with you two?" he asked, wondering if this wasn't a prank.

"Just indulge the king, Cor."

And ten minutes later, Cor Leonis was weaving through the guests, following the path of Clipboard lady as Clarus called her. Catching up to her was something else, since people kept trying to start a conversation with him. The military man mostly groaned instead of answering, which got the job done. It took him about half an hour to finally get Monica's attention and when he did, she seemed between surprise and annoyance.

"I don't mean to be insistent, but I'm under other from the king to ask you for a dance."

"Wow. I never heard that one before."

Her smile reached her eyes and for an instant Cor was reminded of what peace felt like. It had been a fleeting feeling, back when he was a young boy, before that training took over the games he'd imagined and the songs his mother sang.

"I'm not trying to flirt. Even if I was, I wouldn't be any good at it. So… care for a dance, miss Elshett?"

Monica had to admit, his honesty was refreshing. People in court weren't as direct. She gave a brief look around, to make sure the right people were speaking only with the right people. There were intricacies in such events, rivalries that bloomed or blew up sometimes. But everything seemed under control. Turning her eyes back on him, she noticed the light smirk on his face.

"Is something funny?"

"I'll tell you if you say yes."

Maybe he wasn't that clumsy. She agreed with a nod and accepted to leave her clipboard with an assistant, letting him take the lead. The current dance was a waltz, a soft rhythm that made it easy to talk. She couldn't help herself, scanning the dancers and trying to notice any details out of the ordinary. A weird stance, a crispation or someone who stared too much at another person. Cor pulled her closer, making her tense slightly, only to chuckle in her ear. The feel of his breath on her skin caught her whole attention.

"I wasn't sure at first, but you're a soldier too, aren't you? This is your battlefield."

"You're pretty perceptive, mister Leonis." She whispered, forcing herself to relax.

"Cor. Unless… that's against the rules?"

"Rules?" Monica mused.

"Protocols. Whatever's on that clipboard."

"What else did the king order you to do?" she shot back, still smiling despite the underlying meaning behind his question.

"To try having fun."

They both looked up to the king, who was now sitting in the prettiest chair in the room, deep in conversation with a string of ladies. He had that patient expression on his face again.

"You need orders to have fun?"

"I might need a few instructions."

It was half a joke half the truth and Cor wondered why he'd even open himself this much. The lady was pretty, in a simple, average way. He'd seen all sorts of beauties and learned that they often hid more trouble than anything. But her light smile made crinkles appear around her eyes. And he finally identified what she smelled like. Cinnamon and lavender. He missed a step and caught himself just in time before to step on her foot.

"Well, I think spontaneity may be good for you. Life doesn't give you instructions."

"When was the last time you were spontaneous?"

"I've been preaching to crowd most of my life. But putting that tie on you was spontaneous." She admitted.

…

It had been the first time they'd met and the only dance they'd shared. Of course, as the years went by, they saw each other again, they even worked together when the state of their country called for it. He had sat down with her on more than one sleepless night, but the lines had been clear then. They'd blurred a few times and gentle flirtations were exchanged every now and then, but they hadn't share more than a hug. Now there were no lines possible. Not when they lied skin to skin, two bodies trembling in the night, Monica's hair tousled and tangled stroking his chin. Cor had never considered himself someone needy, but every stolen moment with her was better than the last. She sighed against his chest, refusing to move away.

"Why didn't we try back then?" he asked her.

"It would have made a scandal." Was her instant reply.

"We could have lived with a scandal."

"Do you have any idea how many times I considered crossing the line then?"

He took a moment to consider how he'd react then. But the thought had been in his mind and heart at so many occasions. The only thing holding him back was the air of professionalism she kept about her, and the fact he had almost no other friends except from her.

"Why didn't you?" Cor asked her.

"I would have asked for more. Promises. A house. Kids. Less war. You'd hated me."

"Mon…"

"Think about it. You were already covered in obligations with your work, your friends. You needed to be free and I always brought bad luck to the men I loved. I couldn't do that to you."

"You make it sound as though your feelings didn't count."

"I thought they didn't. Maybe it would have been different. Maybe I had read you wrong back then. But I was protecting myself." Monica apologized.

"I should have tried your suggestion."

"Which one?"

"Being more spontaneous."

Saying that, he rolled her on her back, running his hands on her sides before kissing her like he'd always meant too. Without restraint, but also without the usual panic that tainted their gesture. She melted under his touch at first, wondering if she should just absorb the love he was giving. She almost purred at his next caress and he could have laughed if she didn't pull on his neck to kiss him once more. There was no control or rules left.

"I don't remember… ever telling you to…"

"That night where we danced…"

She blushed as she remembered what he was referring to.

"That's… I think it was the first time we ever…"

He interrupted her with another kiss, sending her almost over the edge as he toyed with her nerves and shivers.

"Cor…"

"White never suited me." He breathed into her skin.

"I'm even paler than you." She observed, fighting against herself to keep her voice even.

"You only need a little more sun."

She laughed between his arms and there it was again. That sensation she always brought to him. Peace. He almost wanted to ask if she could feel it too, if he had such an appeasing effect on her, but the words got stuck in his throat.

"I don't want sun." she teased him, wrapping herself around him.

And there went his control again. Although he couldn't care. Getting lost in her was better than the losses he was facing on every new morning. And the way she held on to him meant more than any promises, any sweet words.

This was their stolen moment. And if he'd known then, Cor would have become a thief long ago, no matter the potential scandals.

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Here's another one. I wanted to write one drabble and here's what came out. No idea when the next one will come, but I'll keep on making more. :D Let me know if you liked it!


	4. Bird trauma

This was inspired by a new headcannon I have. I really should stop making Cor suffer in these drabbles. I hope you'll enjoy it!

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Bird trauma

"It will be easier if we leave with chocobos." Monica declared.

Cor's car had been destroyed in a recent attack by the largest prima mech he'd seen. Monica had been dropped by hunters close to a potential royal tomb and had decided to explore it until he'd pass by to pick her up. Travelling wasn't getting easier as the weeks went by. Cars broke down and Cindy could barely keep up with the demands. Anyone with military training was left to fend to themselves longer, since the civilians couldn't survive in the wilds. They'd been camping for two nights, their phones almost uncharged, food slowly running out, barely managing to stay warm despite how close they held each other at night.

His hesitation was apparent, but Monica raised a whistle, hoping it would ease his worries.

"I always keep one just in case. Since the prince has hunted down Dead eye…"

"I know. I'm just…"

He had to make an effort to keep the mental images at bay.

"If you have a problem with chocobos, we can always share one mount."

"I didn't say I had any problem with them."

She snickered at his offended expression.

"You turned whiter than a sheet. But the closest road is far and I won't slow you down by having you protecting me when we could just ride away from beasts."

Her logic was implacable and Cor's shoulders sagged.

"I had an… accident with a chocobo once. I haven't ready gotten back on the saddle ever since."

Recognition flashed in Monica's eyes.

"Was it where you broke your hip?"

"No… That was the behemoth riding accident."

She rolled her eyes at him. His taming habit had never impressed her that much.

"When you broke both legs?"

"Nope. That was when I got pushed down an airship."

Had she kept a record of every of his major injuries?

"Two days' coma?"

"Mon, would you let it go and just call the damn thing…"

She shook her head, sensing the tension growing even stronger in him. He got to his feet, motioning to gather their stuff and she followed suit, standing in his way, her arms crossed.

"I need to know how bad it is. You never looked this uncomfortable before and the chocobo isn't even here yet!"

He heaved a deep sigh.

"I fell while riding. I was trying to tame a flock of savage birds for my father…"

She blinked, realizing how far back that had to be. Cor had left his parent's farms around 13 years old or so. The worried look in her eyes got on his nerves and he ushered the words out, as quickly as he could.

"They panicked and rushed at me in a stampede. Their flock leader nearly stabbed me with its beak afterwards. My bird got killed trying to rescue me and I… refused to tame another one ever since…"

"Or to ride…" she completed.

He closed his eyes three seconds too long, waging a battle against his fears. Monica took the last step between them, a gentle smile on her face.

"Let's share the saddle. I'll keep you safe for once."

The protest was clear on his face, but she was blowing in the whistle already. The kweeing sound that soon answered filled him with dreadful pictures. The talons scraping at his clothes. The feathers sticking to his wounds as beaks dove for his head, his eyes. How he'd pressed his face against the dirt and covered his head with his trembling arms. He had been careful to avoid any trigger of those memories. Had faced all sorts of beasts to prove to himself he owed his title of the Immortal. He had hacked off one of Gilgamesh's arms for the six's sake!

He forced his legs to work and finished packing, unable to look at the large yellow birds. Everyone found them either cute or funny-looking. But they were animals, like the aggressive Sahagins or the monstrous Bendersnatches. And since he'd raised his own chocobo, from the very egg to the chick to the majestic mount and had gotten it killed… He'd come to the decision he'd rather tame real beasts, not cute looking ones. This way he wouldn't forget about the danger, not even for a second.

Monica had one chocobo carrying their package, before to have the other bird kneel to take both of its charges. Cor settled behind her, managing to keep his breathing even despite the fear that threatened to take over.

"Hold on to me, Leonis."

"You're enjoying this a bit too much." He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She bumped into him as the bird stood, her shoulders stiffer than he'd expected.

"You think I enjoy seeing you like this? You're almost shaking."

"I…"

She motioned her arms, sending the chocobo forward and the dizzying movement shut him up. Every step felt precarious, their bodies instinctively swaying forward or backward to follow suit and ease the pressure and weight. But he could feel the bones beneath his thighs. Light and sharp. The smell brought back the impression of failure and regret he'd fought against as a boy.

"Up for trotting?"

His sharp intake of breath made her try and look up to him, only to feel him leaning over her, so close the bumping almost felt too intimate to be outdoors.

"You're the one driving." He blurted out.

"There's something you didn't tell me about that accident. You've been through far worse…"

And the wound stirred, still wide open.

"Maybe when we get… there." He sighed, interrupted by a sudden jump.

He'd been hurt heavily enough to stay bedridden for a few days. During those days, a horde of vicious Mindflayers came, sent adrift by lousy hunters. His parents had to fight them off without his help. Nobody had come that night to check on him. He'd found the bodies two days later, hope burying beneath resolve at the sight.

Cor pressed his face against her shoulder, not caring for the bumping. Falling from his bird had meant a lot more than getting hurt or scared. It had preceded the first meaningful loss in his life. And he couldn't recover from it, no matter what he tried or how many enemies felled to his blade. Monica gently brushed his clasped hands, hoping he'd feel slightly comforted.

She halted the birds a hundred feet away from the resting area occupied by a store and some RVs. The Immortal wouldn't be seen quivering by any citizens. They collected food and barricaded themselves in one RV, sharing a brief shower before to cuddle in a makeshift bed. Their phone remained uncharged, the outside world forgotten for a few hours.

"Talking won't help? Are you sure of it?"

His silence was answer enough and since tickling and kissing didn't work, Monica accepted to wait until he'd entirely calmed down. Just when Cor thought she'd fallen asleep next to him, she stirred in his arms.

"I'm not such a bad rider, am I?"

"We need a new car." He objected.

"But for the meantime…"

"I can't… It's stupid, but I can't. Just looking at them…"

Three broken bodies had been etched into his mind. He couldn't remember the color of his mother's eyes… But he remembered the color of her brain, splattered all over her ghost-like face. The years hadn't eased the distress he felt whenever his thoughts lead him to reminisce.

"Don't go there. Stay with me, Cor." She pleaded, noticing how fast his breathing was getting.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I'm starting to feel like a whole lot of trouble."

"I believe I might be a whole lot of trouble most of the time. I can't fight the creatures out there."

"At least you can ride a chocobo without flinching."

"You have a chance to praise me, and all I get is one quality?"

He laughed, his warm, genuine laugh into her ears. If he wasn't so tired from their nights in the cold, he'd rolled them around and would have demanded a dozen kisses. His fingers simply traced the outline of one earlobe through her hair, his lips reaching for her forehead.

"You're a dictator and a manipulative woman, you know that?"

"Dictator sounds a bit strong." Monica protested. "And you're never low on orders yourself."

"When did I ever order you around?!"

"Every time you got me in b…"

"You're pretty vocal about what you want," he reminded her, unable to refrain from smiling.

"Why don't you be vocal too then?"

He blinked as she raised herself on one elbow, gazing at him with playful eyes that held a glint of lust. She rarely made the first steps. She always set the pace, but…

"Like… now?"

"You were so stressed out, I'm still on edge." She admitted. "So I'll give you one wish."

"Only one?"

"It can be in steps. But we need to save some of our strength for tomorrow."

Work would have to start over now that they were back with the civilization.

"Do you feel up for a different sort of riding?" Cor asked her, undoing the buttons of her blouse as he spoke.

"You're a mind reader, do you know that?"

"If only…"

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Short one once again. The rating won't change on this, I try to stick with what I say when I start publishing a story. I wonder if I could manage something that wouldn't be angsty drama with these two. I'll try to keep the drabbles coming every now and then. ;) The reviews always make it worth it to come up with new ideas.


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